A little chat with a 16 year old ghost
by YukitoK
Summary: I didn't Kill Grissom this time. A little chalenge fic. Halloween about G/S. Kinda Funny


Title: A little chat with a 16-year-old ghost. 

Rating: PG.- I'm not good at scary stuff at all, so it's not really scary. Some swearing. 

Summary: Grissom reflects with the ghost of a girl who visits him every Halloween, and lives at HQ. She gives him her thoughts about, among other things, Sara Sidle. 

Spoilers: all three seasons   


It was the calm before the storm that was always Halloween night at CSI headquarters. Gil Grissom sat at his desk, an hour before shift doing — what else — paperwork. Joy. Sometimes he hated his job. 'No,' he amended, 'usually like the job, don't EVER like the paperwork.' We know Gris: paperwork, blech. 

Sometime, in the 15 years he had been there, the damn place had become haunted. Grissom sat down his pen. Anytime now she'd be showing up. The past 3 years he'd not been there early and he mostly wanted to see if she was real or – well – something else. 

And there she was, right on time. She materialized in front of him. Her name had been Elise and she was maybe 16. Her hair was of a medium cut, brown and neat and her eyes were a startling blue. She was dressed the way she had been the night she had died, like a Jedi: snow boots, plastic lightsaber, the whole shpeal. She was very slim, on the verge of seeming undernourished, but her face was cheerful as she plopped herself down across from him, quite solid now. 

"Hi-ya Grissom." Her voice was a rich, if nasal, alto. 

"Hello Elise, I'm sorry I missed the past 3 years." 

"Oh you did?" She looked thoughtful, "I hadn't noticed. To many exciting things going on." She grinned, "That was awesome when you knocked that coffeepot against the wall. That Ecklie guy gives ME the creeps and I'm dead." She laughed at her own joke. 

"You've been watching?" 

"Watching? Heh, yeah. Always." There was some bitterness in her tone, but she immediately cheered up again, "Helping too." 

"Helping?" 

"Greg couldn't think up ALL those jokes on his own." She laughed so hard she bent over. 

Grissom gave her a half smile. "So how're we doin'?" 

"Who's 'we'?" 

"My team." 

"And you?" She asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. 

He smiled, "And me." 

Her face suddenly turned hard and cold, "And SARA?" The distaste was obvious in her voice. 

Grissom looked rather startled. "What's wrong with Sara?" 

"She's a bitch." Elise mumbled. 

"Watch you're language." 

She sighed, "Okay," She conceded, "So I'm kinda jealous." 

"Of what?" 

"Oh Gil-baby, get a clue." She said plaintively. "I'll tell you about Sara, after I've calmed down." 

He gave her a confused look, which she deliberately ignored. He settled on a smile, changing the subject, "So, how do the spirits say we're doing?" 

She sighed, "Oh, they're indifferent mostly," She gave him a gentle smile, "But the ones who care think you're doing great." 

"All right personal reports." He said, knowing, that unprompted, she would have said it anyway. 

"Oh yes," She sat up very strait, all business now. "Ahem. Now these are my personal impressions. I can't read minds, only spirits and as you know, I can't be everywhere at once..." 

He knew this speech by heart. "Yes, I know, you're not God." 

She laughed again, "No shit, Sherlock." 

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. 

She stopped laughing, "Nicky Stokes: hot as ever. Couple close calls, I don't like him THAT much. I'd rather have him alive; he's the little life you guys get around here. At least for the ten years he has left, forty if he plays his cards right." 

Grissom didn't seemed bothered by this news. 'Destinies always change,' she had once told him, 'Or as Yoda would say, "always in motion is the future."' 

"I have to admit that Nigel Crane guy had me worried. I quit following you around to clue in that psychic." 

He gave her a startled, harsh look. She put her hands up, face to the floor, "I know, bad idea, I'll NEVER do that again." 

She paused and ran through the three years in her head. "Oh yeah, I also found out that he – oop – can't tell ya that. Catherine was the woman of the year – years? – whatever, to tell secrets to. Shit, she even got one outa you. Speaking of which, I liked that Lady Heather woman." 

This got the desired uncomfortable look. 

"Yeah and I KNOW all that back and forth crap, wasn't just innocent banter. She had you pegged man, it was kinda funny. 

"Oh shit, before I forget," her face got suddenly sad, "Holly says 'Hi'." 

He nodded, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. 

"Okay then, that would logically bring us to Warrick Brown. Again, hot as ever. Doesn't talk much though, he's an interesting problem. After you die, I may just have to follow him around. 

"Greg Sanders desperately needs a life, but THAT'S nothing new. He really looks up to you a lot. He loves his job, loves you guys and – well – he loves Sara. 

"Catherine Willows: Keep an eye on her. She wants your job Grissom and wants it bad. However, I believe when push comes to shove, she'll be there for you. 

"Which leads us to this, and you can't tell me you didn't know this was coming: Why the FUCK haven't you told anyone about your hearing yet?" 

"I could loose my job Elise. If it was as simple as telling them I would, but it's not that simple. The world's not black and white." 

"You sound like my mother." 

He smiled, "You have a scientific mind." 

She flashed him a strait-toothed grin, "Damn strait." Her smile fell and she rested an elbow on a crossed knee. "They WILL find out you know." 

"Maybe." 

She shook her head and made a small, exasperated noise in the back of her throat, "Get a clue." 

"Why don't you like Sara?" 

She sighed once more, "I like her fine, she has a good soul, you all do." There was a pause in the room as Elise considered him. 

"Grissom, let me give you piece of advice. I only got to live 16 years, I never got the chance to be in love. You're forty-seven and you're too stubborn to give it a chance. You love her Grissom, tell her, or you may lose her." 

"What about Hank?" 

She gave him a sincere smile, "No competition." 

"Why did you call her a bitch?" 

"She disagrees with you and it makes me mad. I don't REALLY like her, but that doesn't matter. I'm dead Grissom, my opinion has its limits. I'm not you, and YOU love her, that's all that matters. It really is that simple. And I'll have to do something drastic if you don't tell her soon." 

"Like what?" 

"I'll take her away from you Grissom," she was more serious than he had ever seen her. 

He looked aghast, "You wouldn't." 

There was a frightening gleam in her normally joyful eyes. When she spoke her voice was low and menacing. "Try me Grissom, just try me." 

He sighed, "Why do you even care?" 

She seemed hurt by this and rose. Coming over to his side of the desk and getting right in his face she said, "I love you Grissom and I want you to be happy. The joy I missed out on I want to belong to you. Sara can give you that joy. 

"Think about what I said Grissom and good luck. I've got to go." She gave him a very real, very passionate kiss. "I won't get in your way." 

She was gone and he sat there, stunned. 

There was a knock on the door, "C-come in." 

It was Sara. 

"I need to talk to you Grissom." 

"About what?" 

A funny look crossed over her face, "That's funny, I forget. Sorry to bother you." 

"No, no. Sara come in, let's talk." 

"About what?" 

He thought for a moment, "Us." 


End file.
